


Chances

by ladyofbearisland (PoeFaraday)



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: F/M, Headcanon, M/M, Musketeers spoilers, slight AU, suggested previous romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-17 16:30:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1394482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoeFaraday/pseuds/ladyofbearisland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Queen Anne is finally pregnant, and Aramis must hide his devotion to her and the child despite her desire to bring him closer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Portrait of a Queen

**Author's Note:**

> So some of this is show canon. A lot of it is my "perfect world" AU, but I'm not above making the characters suffer just a little. After all, the course of true love never did run smooth. But anyway...also there's going to be lots of Aramis/Musketeers once we get going here, so bear with me. This is going to be more than a oneshot, I hope, and if you like it, I'll do my best to update regularly!

The package had been deposited by an anonymous carrier in Treville’s office.The note upon it read “for Aramis,” with no signature. The handwriting was nondescript. There was really no tracing it to its original owner. At least, there wasn’t until Aramis opened it.

He did so in his own rooms, and, thankfully, alone, because once he saw what the small wooden box contained, he felt a rush. Whether it was of fear or complete, pure love, he couldn’t be sure, but he had a nagging feeling it was a bit of both.

Inside the box was an oval-shaped silver locket.It was beautifully engraved with a fleur-de-lis surrounded by intricate designs, and was roughly an inch and a half long by an inch wide. He didn’t have to open it to know what it contained, but of course, he opened it anyway. Inside was a miniature portrait of Queen Anne.

His traitorous heart skipped another beat, and he closed his eyes and bit his lip, waiting for the feeling to pass. The painting was masterfully done; the likeness to the woman he loved – no, _served_ – he had to remember that he served her – was incredible. Accompanying the portrait was a piece of paper, folded many times over so that it would fit inside the locket when it was closed. Gingerly placing the locket on his lap, he unfolded the paper.

 _I had one commissioned for the king, but decided you needed one as well. Keep it close to your heart, as I keep you to mine_.

Just when he thought he couldn’t be in any worse trouble, Anne – brilliant, sweet, beautiful Anne – had to go and charm him all over again. Here he was, thinking he was the one responsible for all this trouble, and it hadn’t even really turned to trouble yet. With another longing sigh, he closed the locket, placing the note inside the wooden box the necklace had come in, and stowed the box in the lower of his two bedside drawers. He’d have to hide it better later, but for now, this would have to do. He placed the chain bearing the locket around his neck, carefully tucking the locket itself out of sight. For the time being, he had to take his mind off of things. A distraction was of the utmost importance, and he knew just where to find one. He headed out of his rooms, placing his hat atop his dark hair, and went in search of his three best friends. They had pestered him when Treville had called him – and only him – up to the office, but as soon as Aramis had seen the package awaiting him, he knew it was best that he had come alone. Someday he would have to thank Captain Treville for his uncanny knack for discretion.

It didn’t take him long to find his mates again. As usual, they were loitering in the yard. Few men in his regiment were so adept at loitering as Athos, Porthos, and d’Artagnan. It was a fact Aramis took great pride in, mostly because he had helped perfect the art. The three were, at the present moment, drinking. There was a novelty. D’Artagnan had found himself the butt of some joke yet again, and Porthos was recovering from a hearty fit of laughter as Aramis approached.

"I trust you aren’t abusing our young friend too terribly,” Aramis commented, swinging a leg over the bench and sitting beside Athos.

“Athos was just remarking on how, if the need ever arose to go undercover as a washerwoman, he’d campaign for my appointment to the task,” d’Artagnan explained with a roll of his eyes. Porthos’ laughter redoubled.

“Tell him,” the largest of the group chuckled, wiping tears from his eyes, “tell him the part Athos said about the apron!”

The young Gascon scowled. “I am not telling him what Athos said about the apron,” he replied sourly.

“What did Treville want?” Athos interrupted in his usual quiet way. He had not taken his stark blue-grey eyes off of Aramis since the man had sat down, and Aramis knew precisely why. 

“Had some question about my lodgings,” Aramis replied with a shrug. “Nothing terribly important.”

Athos’s gaze remained placid. “What about them?”

Aramis cleared his throat. “I had…complained some weeks ago about the presence of mice.”

Mice?”

Aramis nodded, sticking to his story. “Big ones. Not quite rats, but they certainly looked well-fed. I mentioned it to Treville, and just now, he wanted to know if I had seen any more of the furry rapscallions.”

Athos shifted, looking down at his hat, which was in his hands on top of the table. “Please tell me that the great Aramis, savior of the queen and defender of France, isn’t afraid of mice.”

“Afraid? Who said anything about being afraid? I was more concerned that I’d step on one and squash it,” Aramis replied. “I couldn’t live with that on my conscience.”

His grumpy friend couldn’t stifle the snort that escaped his nose. “I think the bounds of your conscience are a little greater than you esteem them to be.”

Porthos and d’Artagnan exchanged looks. “What are you not telling us?” Porthos inquired. “And don’t say nothing, because that just means you’re definitely hiding something. You’ve dodged us for almost a month now, since the king’s announcement.”

Athos raised an eyebrow. “Do you think I tell you everything, Porthos? Everything there is to know? Are you party to every scrap of knowledge that I possess?”

And with that, he got up and left the table, heading for the barracks.

Porthos raised his hands in a gesture of disbelief.

“I think he means for us to follow him,” Aramis explained, knowing that this likely wasn’t going to end well for him.


	2. Honesty and Fealty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athos comes clean. The king and his retinue prepare to go hunting, and Anne is put under the charge of a watchful eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! Two weeks before finals is the worst time ever to get sick...but in any case, here it is! I promise sexy times in the next chapter (but I won't say who gets to participate!). Also, I don't have a beta, so I apologize for any errors. I'm looking for one, though, if anyone is interested! Just let me know. There will be a super-basic screening process, but it's nothing to worry about.

Athos had wrestled with this for a month. It wasn't that he didn't trust his friends; he didn't trust the Cardinal, or anyone who might bring them in for questioning when everything came to a head as, doubtless, it would. 

However, the fact remained that Porthos and d'Artagnan would pester him for answers until he gave them, and if he did not, they would certainly be offended at his apparent lack of trust, regardless of whom it was aimed at. He finally decided that it was time to let them know why he and Aramis had been so tight-lipped for so long.

"I didn't want to tell you," he began after his friends had followed him into his room. "But I trust you not to say anything. This is of the utmost secrecy, though I'm sure I don't have to explain that to you."

Porthos crossed his arms over his chest. "Could you leave off with the stalling and just get to it already?"  

Athos and Aramis exchanged a glance. The latter hadn't known that this was where the conversation would be going, though he had wanted his friends to know for some time. The opportunity just hadn't presented itself. Of course, on one hand, he worried that Porthos and d'Artagnan would take it as some kind of joke; a factual one, but also something to poke fun at him for. Aramis, the great seducer and respecter of women, in bed with the queen of France. What could be more amusing than that? On the other hand, he was also terrified that they might think he had wronged them somehow in doing what he did. What better way to raise one's position than by getting in the queen's very, very good graces? 

Either way, he wasn't sure he was ready to stomach the reaction.

Athos sighed and took a piece of paper from the drawer beside his bed. He found a quill in there as well and placed the paper on the table, beginning to write. 

"What's this, then?" Porthos protested. "I thought you were going to tell us why you two have been so hush-hush lately, not give us your grocery list."

Athos gave him a deadpanned look and put the quill down. He handed the paper to the broad-shouldered man, whose eyes instantly grew to the size of teacup saucers. 

"I can't believe you slept--!" 

"Porthos, what did I just say about discretion?" Athos sighed. 

Porthos handed the paper to d'Artagnan before slapping a hand to his mouth in surprise. He removed it and opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came. A few stunned chuckles later, he found his voice.

"I don't know whether to congratulate you or lock you in your room for a week."

"Neither would be much appreciated," Aramis replied, chewing his lip. "As I'm sure you can understand, this wasn't exactly planned."

"Then what about the baby?" d'Artagnan asked, handing the paper back to Athos. "It'll be your neck if anyone finds out."

Athos struck a match against the edge of the table and held the flame to the corner of the paper. Once it was lit, he dropped it into a bowl so that the flames wouldn't reach the wooden table. "Which is why no one will find out."

Porthos shook his head. "Mate, you've got a real problem on your hands. Have you considered Spain? Wait, nah, the queen's Spanish. Italy, then? Norway, perhaps?" 

"No," Aramis protested firmly. "I have sworn to protect them with my life. It would be cowardly to abandon them." 

Athos shot him a look. "You've sworn now? When did that happen?"

"After the announcement. I couldn't just walk out on her. She trusts me, and I would be a hypocrite if I broke that trust," Aramis replied. 

"And to think, I have trouble with self-preservation."

Aramis turned to face his best friend, his jaw set firmly. "I would sooner hang, and gladly, before I turned my back on Anne and that child."

Athos took a breath, trying to control the fear and anger that were building in his chest. He loved Aramis like he loved few things in this world. Aramis's safety was almost more paramount to him than the king's. In a way, Aramis was right to stay. If he left Paris now, he would implicate himself. However, to stay so close to the queen was surely suicide. Better to maintain his regular duties and remain impartial than declare himself her personal bodyguard, which he had all but done. After a long moment, Athos sighed.

"I hope it does not come to that."

***

"My queen has decided she will join in our hunt," Louis announced. 

A week later, the king was holding a celebratory hunt in the queen's honor, and apparently, Anne had agreed to ride with the king. Attended, of course, so that if the exertion became too taxing, she could turn around and head back to the palace for rest. After all, there was no need to place undue stress on their unborn child. But Louis was pleased - overjoyed, even - that Anne had finally seemed to take an interest in his favorite pastime. 

Truthfully, Anne was less interested in the hunt and more interested in convincing her husband of her loyalty to him. Of course she was loyal. She was a good and supportive wife to him. Her one moment of weakness did not diminish that. She loved Louis in the only way she could: dutifully and respectfully. She wanted to prove her hardiness, and this was the perfect opportunity. Besides, she still had time before any real damage could be done to the baby. They would be safe. 

And, just in case, she would have Aramis and his companions along to keep a watchful eye on her. 

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for it being so short! However, this is only the beginning. I promise there will be smutty goodness in Chapter Two - I've got to get you lovelies coming back somehow!


End file.
